


Very Drunk

by bobswolfie2001



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Blood, Gunnnnns, Multi, Red Leader, Tom is drunk, When isn't he
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 14:37:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7805689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bobswolfie2001/pseuds/bobswolfie2001
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"W-why would you do that?!" He asked, near hysterically.</p>
<p>Tom couldn't answer a question that he himself didn't know the answer to.<br/>So instead, he shakily replied:</p>
<p>"...I am... Veeeeeery Drunk..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Very Drunk

Tom was so, so done with this absolute bulls***.

And judging by the way he felt his pitch-black eyes darken, and the stretch of his thin lips morphing into a scowl, he was probably making it damn well sure that everyone could see it, too. His still bruising left eye stung significantly more with the added pressure of his irritation, but as always, he really, really couldn't find a single s*** to give, other than the one directed to the situation at hand.

...Oh yeah. That was still happening, huh.

Positioned to his right, a little distance away, was a shadowed figure steadily aiming a red laser between three young men clothed in hoodies, each a different colour, one of which being Tom's very own dark blue hoodie. The Brit could only assume that the near-motionless shadow was armed with a sniper rifle, ready to obliterate anyone who dared step out of line.

 

Astonishingly enough, that wasn't even the worst of it.

Facing directly ahead of Tom was a huge, heavily armoured man doused in a dubious black liquid, holding a gun to the head of the Red leader.

...Holding a gun to Tord.

And quite honestly, Tom almost wished he was the lucky bastard holding the gun.

...Almost.

Before facing the possibility of a mental break-down (and yes, the kind of breakdown involving broken faces and stupid decisions), Tom closed his eyes and imagined himself back at home, back in Tord's- No, no, _His_ room, his new _home_ , strumming on Susan without the stress of his generally restless thoughts. Even now, they were invading his mind, wasting precious seconds that could possibly mean years.

Snapping his head around, he looked back at his famil-- friends, hoping to discover that some kind of progress was made while he had been in cloud cuckoo land. To his left was Matt, cowering behind him and shaking, most likely giving himself a brain haemorrhage trying to find someway to simply help his friends. And to his right was Edd, wearing a weary yet determined look, as he shared his gaze with Tom. He was saying something, his eyes softening as he took in Matt's horrified expression, but Tom really wasn't in his right mind to listen attentively.

' _Amazing Edd, always strong no matter the circumstance_ ' he contemplated in awe.

But before he could allow his brain to spew more compliments (as rare as it was), he brought himself back to cruel reality once more.  
Directly in front of him (effectively blocking his view, might he add), were two complete f***wits draped in red clothing, one of which being the bugger with suspiciously large eyebrows that lobbed his AK-47 magazine into Tom's left eye(socket), no more than two hours ago.

And, contrary to popular belief, that did in fact hurt, eyeless or not.

In the rational part of his brain, the part that somehow managed to sound like both Edd and Matt at the same time, his mind told him that 'hey, it was an accident, he didn't actually toss it to you on purpose' (and oh god, how ironic it was having Matt be the voice of reason)  
And sure, while he did agree with himself, he certainly was not going to let that bastard off scot free--

"I said, drop your guns and back the f*** up!"

...Wow, his brain really wasn't letting him concentrate today. Probably a side effect of all the alcohol.

....

...Ok, _fine_ \-- **Definitely** a side effect of the alcohol.

 

But back to the gun wielding mercenaries.

 

One of Tord's soldiers; the one that didn't conk him in the eye with his dumb gun, instantly moved upon instruction to disarm his weapon, the other following soon after.  
But apparently Tord cared about his life even less then Tom did, because he soon began wrestling his captor and cried out:  
"Don't listen to him, Patryk!" The painfully familiar Norwegian accent sounded, albeit muffled by the gun prodding him viciously in the mouth. "Just-- GODDAMIT, shoot! Shoot him!!" The ebony coved man glowered at Tord, who continued to scrape at the metal arm locked around him. He soon stopped struggling, however, when the hand around his neck clenched down hard, blocking his airway entirely.

The first thought through Tom's heavily inebriated, messed-up head was, as expected, 'I'm out of alcohol...'  
That was immediately scrapped, however, and replaced with 'I knew you were a stubborn bastard Tord, but I didn't know you had a death wish'

The red soldiers flinched, hearing their leader's voice laced with anger, but disobeyed regardless, caring more for their leader's well-being.  
Tom had decided they were trustworthy enough, even if they were technically siding with the demon commie.  
Speaking of demon commie, Tom gazed up at him. He somewhat confused to find his once-friend staring at his soldiers, fear in his eyes, not anger, as he watched his them remove their guns; their last source of defence, Tom noted unhappily.

The others seemed to notice that too, as Matt whimpered softly behind him, and Edd began to frantically look around.  
Tom just stuffed his hands in his hoodie pockets with a sigh, wishing it was only him here, not Matt and Edd.  
_I should have told them to leave when I had the chance..._  
If anything were to happen to them, he would never be able to forgive himself.  
_Which is why I plan on nothing 'happening'_

Yet, as if Edd had read his mind, Edd suddenly stepped forward, causing the two armed men to whip their heads to him. Despite the circumstance, Edd continued to stand strong, even if his hands were trembling. Tom took a chance gaze to Tord, wondering what was going on in his head. Tom had never been the best at reading people (especially not when absolutely wasted), but considering the life-death setting, he figured it would be easier.

Tord hadn't faced the three of them since their arrival, for some _strange_ reason (he could easily guess why), but Edd had obviously caught his attention now. His eyes were wide as he appeared to shrink further into himself.  
Edd must've seen it too; he was staring straight at the guy, sadness and concern in his eyes.  
If Tom didn't know any better, Tom would say Edd was more scared for Tord than himself.

 

...Oh for f***s sake, Tom realised in disbelief.  
Edd was more scared for Tord than himself.

 

Before Tom could shout about how stupid challenging two men with guns was, Edd beat him to it.  
"Come on now, do-... Do you really think this is a good idea? I mean, even if you kill Tor-- Uh, red leader, you're going to leave an entire army chasing after you"  
The metal armed man actually seemed to consider this, turning silent.

When Tom finally took in the image of the guy, he began to consider if the mass of muscle was even capable of killing an army chief. He looked... Off. Not how he imagined someone who essentially kidnapped a war icon should look.  
_He's nervous..?_ , Tom rationalised after observing his steel hands frantically rattling against the Red Leader's neck. As painful as it appeared for Tor- Red leader, it was also a good sign.

_He's not the ideal image of a cold blooded killer. That's good news for us_

Hopefully the captor's nervousness would prove to be an advantage when they finally figured out how to solve this bloody mess.

While Matt and Tom scanned the rooftops for some kind of escape route, Edd slowly took another step forwards, promptly causing the second guns-man to shift the laser's position and scream "Don't move another step, or I'll blow both your and your friends heads off!!"

Tom could feel his fury building once again as he clenched his fists in his pockets. He really just wanted to go up there and punch the dude's lights out, then proceed slap Tord in the face.  
But seeing as that would result in all their deaths, he decided against it.

How the hell did he even find himself in this situation? Once the whole ordeal with Tord was over, he was never supposed to see him. Ever. Again. After all, he promised himself that if he did, he would end him before Matt and Edd could even consider to forgive him, just like they always managed to do.  
Tom would forgive him too, if he hadn't endangered all three of them.

As much as he seemingly hated the red clad man, he never considered shooting at him, or permanently killing him.

...It hurt, the fact that Tord fired the missile at Tom so easily. That he clearly wanted him dead.

...he hurt Tord, too, Tom guiltily admitted. That was pretty obvious now, seeing the tattered eye-patch reaching across his right eye, and the metallic glow emitting from his... Maybe-Arm.

That was what he did, wasn't it? The harpoon...

He couldn't help the pessimistic thoughts that flooded though him. All he had ever asked for, all that he had ever wanted in life, was to live happily, peacefully, to live like a normal goddamned person. To have friends, to have a family, and to never, ever lose them.

Well, I certainly f***ed that one up

In all honesty, Tom understood why Tord hated him. In fact, he knew better than anyone else why. Why wouldn't you hate a short-tempered, apathetic, waste-of-space alcoholic like him. He would never be enough for the world, never someone worth saving.

Not when the god he still struggled to believe in didn't believe in him.

Breaking him from his painful thoughts, the mechanical laughter echoing through the bleak air caught Tom's attention.  
"Edd, one of Tord's closest friends... Or at least, was one.." The metal-man smirked, which, accompanied by the use of Edd and Tord's names, made his stomach turn.  
Just who the f*** is this guy? How does he know about us?

Tom was willing to bet it was Tord 's fault, which definitely didn't help with the 'I'm beginning to see you in a different light'.

...Tom noticed Tord was beginning to choke on the vice grip hands coiled around his throat

"As pitiful as your attempt at stopping me is, I'm afraid that It's not my problem, dear Edd. I'm just a delivery person; A hunter, if you will. My employer doesn't necessarily want him dead... yet" Tord visibly gulped at that statement.

Employer...  
Tom swiftly caught on to his train of thought, and as worrying as that was, he would think about it later. Right now he had to think of a way out of this.

"Which is why he's still alive, right?" Tom said monotonously, all seven heads flipping around to face him. Including Tord's.

On the building rooftop, frozen in the centre, Tom felt as though he was back in theatre class, in the grande finale of some amateur's short film.  
In audience situations like this, Tom did what he did best:  
Feign disinterest.

"...Exactly... Tom, right? I've heard a lot about you. Well, I've heard a lot about all of you" he laughed at his own joke, god, the prick--

"But I must say, I am most impressed by you in particular" he added shadily.

Tom grimaced.  
"... that's... not exactly something I want to hear."  
Under the drunken spell of Smirnoff, Tom felt a persistent thrumming beginning to build in the back of his head. It cruelly reminded him of the burning agony he always felt before...

...Before one of the worst things Tord has done to me, he remembered bitterly.

Tom tried desperately to focus his attention on the hunter instead of Tord's bruised and battered face. Tord had most certainly put up a fight before his capture; that, he could tell by the countless bloodied bodies that had littered the stairs of the building as he and the other four dashed after The Red Leader.

The hunter laughed, before continuing with his speech.  
"Well, that's fine. Once this is over, you and I will never have to see each other again..."

'Never see each other again'? What?

..He wasn't going to kill the three of them, too?

...In that case, why didn't he just leave?

Why didn't he just walk away, leave Tord and his new family to deal with this, leave him in the choking grip of his captor, leave him to be tortured to death in the hands of whatever enemies he had made by himself?

...Tom couldn't help himself. With Tord lying less than 20cm below his captor's face, he couldn't find the self-restraint to not look at him.

 

 

And how surprised he was to find the Red covered man staring back at him.  
As usual, his blood red eyes (...eye) held their defiant gaze, always refusing to break contact until Tom backed down first.  
But, for once in his life, Tom managed to find something more that that.  
He sensed the sadness, the anger, the guilt, the fear...  
The Fear of the fact that, if Tom truly wanted, he could simply take a few steps forwards, and Tord would be killed.

...But... That wasn't what Edd would want... Nor what Matt would want...

But it wasn't their choice to make.

So, when it came down to only him... was that what Tom wanted?

 

Tord's face contorted as soon as Tom's did; it seemed that Tord knew his end was coming.

 

For the first time since their last meeting, Tom found himself overwhelmed.  
He didn't know what was going through his head, his mind was going a mile a minute, he couldn't form the words required for coherent thought...

...And most importantly, he had an idea. An idea so crazy, so stupendously dangerous, that it just might work.

...Whatever, I'm drunk enough to give it a shot... Pun not intended

"Wait, so... you're gonna just let us live?" Tom walked up to Edd, keeping his eyes locked on the captor's gun; a Magnum, he realised, taking in the light reflecting from it.

 

This is no time to think about guns, Tom. Focus

 

"That's so dumb, I think I just lost 10 IQ points. And I pride myself on my 138 IQ, you prick"  
The hunter raised an eyebrow in offence, opening his mouth to respond before Tom continued:  
"I mean, do you really think that they won't find you? That Edd and Matt would let you get away with that?"

Tom roughly pushed Edd backwards, trying to put on his usual vicious front. Edd looked at him in shock, then confusion, and then worry.  
The hunter crossed his brows, shifting in his spot. If he wasn't anxious before, he was most certainly on edge now; with sweat dripping down his forehead and his hand twitching dangerously close to the trigger.

Good. Tom was counting on that.

The red laser directed towards the group shifted again, this time surely to the back of his head.

Perfect

"Tom, what are you doin--" But Edd's question fell on deaf ears, as Tom pushed onwards.  
Matt, who had now lost his human shield, watched in horror as Tom stalked up to Tord, steam practically bursting from his ears. Edd and Matt silently hoped that he wasn't doing anything drastic.

But they trusted him.

Tom glanced at the red soldiers briefly, and he liked what he saw.  
They were moving closer and closer to their weapons, under the cover of Tom's distraction.

"No, actually, you know what? Scratch that..."  
The sniper yelled something supposedly threatening at him, but Tom was far too occupied to hear it.  
"If you know so much about me, then tell me, Hunter..."  
Tom removed his hands from his hoodie, leaving his fiery fists bare in the cool air.  
He was so, so close now, to both Tord (who was seemingly mortified) and his captor, who's hand was waning. All the fury, the hatred, the sadness of the past year came flooding back to him. All of it fuelled into one final, drunken cry:

"WHAT THE HELL MAKES YOU THINK THAT I'LL LET SOMEONE OTHER THAN ME LAY A GODDAMNED FINGER ON HIM!!!"

The next 10 seconds went by like a flash.  
...Literally.

Just as Tom had planned for, the hunk of muscle guarding Tord had moved his aim to Tom, obviously fearful for his life when the blue youth came charging at him.  
And, just as Tom had expected, the metallic sniper shot rang through the air, most likely piercing through some part of his body. (Please not the head)

But everything else was cut short by the staggering pain and screams. They weren't his screams, he realised, as he coughed and heaved a crimson liquid into his hand.  
And since when was I on the ground? He wondered groggily.  
For a while, there was so much noise and a terrible ringing in his ears.  
And then, there was deafening silence.

If it wasn't for the fact that he could still see the cement ground below him, Tom would be convinced that he was simply dead.  
Without warning, Tom felt himself being lifted of the ground by two red arms hooked underneath his own, spiking a sharp pain through his chest.  
Slowly, he began to make out words, "Oh, god", "Why..!" "How.!" "What do w..!"

His chest hurt so much, he wanted to heave up a lung.  
Tom found himself wondering how much worse it would feel if he weren't hammered.

After god knows how long, his brain finally managed to regain some form of functioning, because he was suddenly facing upwards at Edd, the red soldier that wrecked his left eye, and Tord, muttering non-English swear words under his breath.

Edd was the first person he heard  
"Tom? Tom, can you hear me? It's okay, Tom, it's okay, you're gonna be okay..." He continued to spout words of comfort, tears threatening to fall from his eyes.

And Matt... Matt was already crying. Tom felt a pang in his chest, the guilt that came with knowing he made a friend cry, despite the circumstance...  
"No, Tim... you can't die yet..."  
If Matt had used his actual name, the sentiment would be a lot more appreciated.

When he looked down, he saw the damage; blood seeping from a hole in his upper abdomen. The soldier... Paul, he read on his upside-down name-tag, was hurriedly blotting at the hole.

And Tord... Where'd he go?

"Argh... iiiis... Tor..?"  
As if he were a ghost, Tord immediately returned to his frame of vision, his half-face twisted as if he were in agony. Well, he probably was, if the red scar slicing through his face was as painful as it looked. 

Later, Tom would come to question if the droplets running down Tord's face were tears. But for now...

"W-why would you do that?!" He asked, near hysterically.

Tom couldn't answer a question that he didn't know the answer to himself.  
So instead, he shakily replied:

"...I am... Veeeeeery Drunk..."

**Author's Note:**

> I really enjoyed writing this story.
> 
> The title (and ending) is inspired by Eddsworld - Space face (part 2), in which Tom says "I am very drunk" (of course)
> 
> I feel like I should say part of the inspiration for this was the song 'A Sadness Runs Through Him' by The Hoosiers (even though none of this story includes anything from the song), because it reminded me so much of Tom. 
> 
> I am considering making a part 2, or perhaps a prequel, but I haven't quite decided yet. Please let me know if you would like to read more. :^>
> 
> This work of fiction is in no way a reference to real people, of course, and I hope you enjoyed reading!


End file.
